Mare Nostrum
by CileSuns92
Summary: Meredith decides to get away from Seattle after prom night, trying to redefine herself in an unexpected place, where people need her more than her new-found Seattle family does. Inspired by true events. What-if AU. One shot.


**Summary : Meredith decides to get away from Seattle after prom night, trying to redefine herself in an unexpected place, where people need her more than her new-found Seattle family does. Inspired by true events. What-if AU. One shot. **

**A/N: More about this will be explained at the bottom. Also, for once, the title doesn't come from any song at all. It's Latin, and it gives you guys a hint about where Meredith is going.  
**

 **Feel free to ask all kinds of questions after reading. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Mare Nostrum**

* * *

Her luggage seems incredibly small compared to the monumental move she's about to complete. Meredith has no idea if she should feel sad that her whole life can fit in a simple suitcase, or be glad she realized it soon enough so she can change that fact.

She zips it close, without even forcing the lid, sitting over it, or cursing in all the languages she knows. Which are English, and some leftover basics of Spanish she learned in high school. Basically, she's screwed.

Meredith slowly climbs downstairs from her room to the kitchen, a gentle, sad smile on her face when she spots Izzie and George bickering over a muffin. Alex is leaning against the sink, a smug look on his face while he devours his own muffin, surveying the scene, amused.

The first one that spots her is Cristina though, calling her name in a voice that barely sounds like hers. The rest of the gang follows suit with their greetings.

"Muffin?" Izzie asks, thrusting the baked delight in her hands before she can reply anything. Meredith accepts it with a smile.

"Are you all set?" Cristina asks with a sad look in her eyes.

"I am," Meredith sighs as well, savoring the first bite of the muffin, knowing she'll miss it when she'll leave.

"Do you need a ride to the airport?" Alex asks, "I have the day off."

Meredith shakes her head, thanking him. She should have accepted, but the mere idea of seeing Alex standing there while she's leaving for who knows how long is not appealing. She can't cry. She's going to do something beautiful and awesome and help people. She can't cry about missing her friends when the people she's going to help don't have anything anymore, apart from the clothes they are wearing, and sometimes not even that.

This trip is the perspective she needs to balance back her crap. She has to leave.

"Call us as often as you can, okay?"

Meredith smiles. "Guys, I'm not going in the middle of nowhere, it's Italy. Lampedusa might be an island, but they do have Internet access," she grins, rolling her eyes. "We'll find a Skype schedule that works, time zones and hectic shifts or not. I promise."

"We're holding you to that," Cristina almost threatens her, but Meredith knows she means well.

Meredith is surprised when Cristina lunges forward and gives her a quick, powerful squeeze on her shoulder. She reciprocates it with a smile. Izzie's hug is definitely more enthusiastic, while George and Alex settle for manly hugs, but she's okay with this.

She'll be okay.

She doesn't cry even when she slips into the taxi and begins the ride to the airport. She keeps it together, grateful for the quiet driver she encounters. She can't handle chatty.

Her Seattle to New York flight is spent in numbness, hours slipping by as she stares straight ahead, wondering if she did the right thing or she just did what Ellis taught her to do: flee.

She can't find an answer to that in the five-hour flight.

It's when she lands at JFK and bumps into a very familiar solid body and mane of curly black hair that she almost loses it. How could she bump into _him_ in New York?

"Meredith," he mumbles, steadying her; his hands on her elbows are making her feel even more unsteady.

"Derek," she murmurs back, getting lost in his eyes for a second.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, his voice like a balm.

"I'm leaving. Italy," she gulps, watching as a myriad of emotions flicker behind his eyes. "I'm going to work with MSF; helping with the situation in Lampedusa with immigrants from Libya crossing the Mediterranean," she keeps blabbering, unable to stop. "Why are you in New York?" she asks, noticing his overnight trolley behind him.

"Conference. Mount Sinai calls me from time to time. I'm going to visit my mom later. I have a few things to settle here in the city, too."

"Good," she mumbles, for a moment getting lost in the essence of him, his eyes, his scent.

"Good," he echoes. "How long...?"

"Until the end of the summer at least."

"Oh," he whispers, his eyes filling with a film of tears. She's sure hers look just about the same. "You...good luck. You'll do great."

"You, too. Have a safe trip," she murmurs, and she doesn't fight him when he pulls her in his arms.

She stifles a sob when she buries her nose into his soft shirt, smelling him, the recent memories of prom night and lost panties and tangled bodies in an exam room resurfacing, making it almost impossible for her to leave his embrace. He holds her like a lover, in spite of his wedding ring; a ring that she can't feel as he caresses the bare skin of her arms, or when he cups her face to leave a fleeting kiss on her cheek.

"Come back," he murmurs, and then he can't help himself, she sees it in his eyes. They mirror the same desperation she feels in her heart.

His lips find hers, and he slowly initiates a kiss that she's been craving from the moment they exited that exam room while straightening up their clothes, Finn or not.

"Wait for me," she murmurs when she pulls away, then finds his lips again for good measure, one last time. She's already an adulterous whore after all, she might as well kiss him again.

 _Alitalia flight 6589 to Rome is boarding from Gate 10, passengers -_

The rest of the announcement gets lost in the hum of the airport, as Derek kisses her again, keeping her captive. He clearly doesn't care about adultery anymore either, apparently.

"That's your flight, right?" he murmurs, keeping their own little bubble alive. Meredith nods, resting her forehead against his. "I'm going to miss you, Meredith Grey."

"I'll miss you too," she blinks back tears, but one manages to escape down her cheek.

She breaks their embrace and pops their bubble, feeling suddenly cold, despite the warm spring day New York graced them with and the balmy, controlled temperature of the airport.

Derek remains rooted in his sport, watching her go, as she moves away from him, turning around every few seconds to see him become smaller and smaller in her line of vision. It's only the ache in her heart that grows.

* * *

Meredith makes it to her seat on the plane before she falls apart. The tears keep coming well into the transoceanic flight, and she doesn't care at all.

* * *

The scirocco welcomes her to Italy as soon as she steps out of the Lampedusa Airport after her third flight for the day, finally ending her almost twenty-four hours of planes. The warm day of May is rejuvenating, in comparison to the rain showers she has left behind in Seattle.

Her puffy eyes take in every inch of the small island, the blue sea, the clear sky, the glimmering coast of Libya in the distance, barely visible through the barely there fog.

Meredith closes her eyes, inhaling the smell of sea salt and Mediterranean weeds, one last tear making its way down her cheek. The sound of the waves crashing ashore fills her ears; the early morning sun glimmers even behind her closed eyelids. Every inch before her eyes is filled with colors and life, and she hopes it can help rebuild her own life too.

"Meredith Grey?" a voice calls for her, its timber rich, an accent already detectable, and she comes face to face with a tanned, dark and handsome man in his late fifties, a mane of thick salt-and-pepper hair that could rival Derek's on his head, his eyes the color of the sea. "I'm Giuseppe, but everybody calls me Pino. I coordinate the rescue teams of the _Mare Nostrum_ project for the migrants. I'm with the MSF. Come on, I'll show you around."

Her journey has officially begun.

* * *

Sunny days and shipwrecks become her daily routine in less than a week. Meredith gets used to the food and the people rather quickly, just as quickly as she learns procedures she never imagined she could perform anywhere without an OR, realizing as well that sometimes even the most basic object can save lives.

She sees more newborns and babies and kids that she can keep track of, mothers and fathers escaping wars and discrimination to give a better future to their children -born and unborn ones.

The first significant medical procedure she runs solo is helping a laboring woman from Nigeria give birth right on the Marina Militare ship they came to rescue them in. When she sees the face of that screaming little girl wriggling in her arms and the tears in the woman's face as soon as she places the child in her awaiting hold, she knows she did the right thing coming here.

She snaps a Polaroid of Francesca Marina - the baby girl, named in honor of this rescue - and her mother, tucks it into her pocket, and then keeps going.

Meredith treats the good guys and the bad guys every time the Navy brings in new ones. She watches as some disappear into thin air as soon as they are feeling better, while others are brought away by policemen in handcuffs. She doesn't judge, she just focuses on the medicine and these people's stories.

When a week later she Skypes her friends, they are already telling her that she looks tanned and they are jealous.

She genuinely smiles for the first time with her friends in a long time.

* * *

It's a Monday the first time she texts Derek again.

It's been two weeks and a day since they kissed at JFK, and the memory of him still makes her lips tingle. Only, she _needs_ to call him. For a medical consult. So she sends her Skype contact through email, texts him and crosses her finger.

Barely two hours later, her laptop is chiming, and she rushes out of the makeshift clinic they set up in one of the refugees shelters to answer him.

His dreamy smile almost melts her when he shows up on the screen.

"You paged, Dr. Grey?" he grins, and he looks younger. He looks good. He looks relaxed.

"I need a quick consult," she smiles back, still unsure to believe if he's really there or she's just having a really pleasant dream. "Wait here," she says, disappearing back in the clinic.

When she comes back holding a baby too beautiful for her own good, she can see Derek's eyes softening, even if the baby is screaming at the top of her lungs.

"This is Zola," she introduces them, but the girl keeps crying, ignoring the stranger looking at her through a screen with mystified eyes. "Her parents drowned in yesterday's shipwreck and she's all alone. I'm pretty sure she has spina bifida," Meredith murmurs, unclasping her onesie and showing Derek the small sack protruding from her lower back.

"Did you get some scans to confirm it?"

"Not yet. There were more urgent cases and she fell into the back of the line," Meredith sighs, trying to keep the child from squirming out of her arms. "We had to rescue almost two hundred people yesterday, and they had all kinds of injuries."

"Is it that crazy every day, over there?" he asks, swallowing thickly.

"There were better days," Meredith shrugs, bouncing the baby a little, but Zola keeps crying.

"Keep her head elevated," Derek blurts before she can elaborate more. "If she really has spina bifida, the spinal fluid will elevate her ICP and bother her if she lays down too much."

And miraculously, as she shifts her head, Zola's cries turn into whimpers. She finally smiles brightly at Derek after stuffing her fingers in her mouth, almost as if she knows he's the one that made her feel better. Derek rewards her with a smile that makes Meredith feel weak in her knees, even if she's sitting down.

"You're a baby whisperer," Meredith laughs, and he joins her for a lighter moment, before they get back to business.

"That sac makes it look like spina bifida, though. Would you like to go over the scans together as soon as you get them?" he asks, a glimmer in his eyes, and for once she can't say no.

She knows how to diagnose spina bifida, or how to operate on it as soon as they really discover what's going on with Zola, but she grew attached to the orphan child, and she wants to give her the best care possible.

All these people deserve the best care possible.

And that's why she Skypes Derek twice in the next two days, first to officially diagnose Zola's spina bifida, the second time to have him assist her in the girl's surgery. Meredith would have gladly passed it onto a regular neurosurgeon, but the day was crazy and flying her back to Sicily was way too costly for such a routine procedure, hence why they usually do these procedures themselves, roughing it in their military tent OR. She doesn't particularly mind the thrill of experience, deep down she's still a surgeon, though she feels better knowing that Derek will gladly assist her via Skype.

It's comforting to have him watch over her shoulder, even if he's still in Seattle, in his office, barely in his scrubs in the first place, since it's so late over there when for her it's early morning. He guides her through every passage and every stitch, and she can almost feel him next to her whenever she has a doubt, anticipating her every move.

He praises her and smiles a lot as soon as she starts closing, not leaving her and Zola until the little girl is being moved back to her crib.

Meredith rides the high of that shunt surgery for the following week.

* * *

Week Three and Four proceed more or less like Week One and Two, a whirlwind of activity and migrants trying to escape shipwrecks and the tyrants who extorted them thousands of dollars to climb on barely operating fishermen's boats or deflating rubber rafts to cross the Mediterranean.

Every day becomes a tangled mess of frightened faces, crying babies, terrified parents and heartbroken travel companions disembarking on that little island in the middle of nowhere. They are the last sliver of Europe, the no man's land of rules and regulations, where doctors and social workers try to make do with what little they have.

She patches up people the best she can, strikes up conversations with their broken English with some of them, and they tell her the craziest stories, the most heartbreaking remaining in her heart longer than it takes for her to stitch up their wounds and send them to the police or the shelter to be identified.

Her heart fills every day with millions of thoughts and even silent prayers, memories she records in a journal while she sits vigil next to Zola's bedside every night for an hour or two before she collapses into bed.

Zola is recovering perfectly, though it seems like Meredith is the only one who can make her stop crying. All the other doctors and kind nurses, social workers and even the most seasoned mothers, who sometimes drop by to offer these kids comfort, can't find anything that soothes her. Only Meredith's heartbeat and closeness seem to be doing the trick. They even tried to wrap the baby in lavender to mimic Meredith's smell, and it still didn't work. The fact that she's inconsolable is the only reason why the orphan girl is still there, stranded on that island with them, why they haven't moved her to Sicily or another part of Italy like most of the other migrants.

Meredith doesn't mind holding the little girl against her for an hour or two or the entire night, she embraces the new feeling instead. Also, spending time with Zola gives her a moment to stop and think and reflect on what is happening in her life, and with the little girl in her arms she finds all the perspective she couldn't find in Seattle. Zola grounds her in the moment, on the island.

Derek calls her on Skype to respond to one of her consults once when she's with Zola, and, before they get back to their medical business, he makes the little girl laugh with all his seasoned uncle charm, which makes Meredith laugh as well.

"Someone is getting sleepy," Derek smiles through the screen, as he notices Zola's head dropping against Meredith's shoulder.

Meredith looks up at the clock on the wall. "She's usually asleep by now."

"My bad," Derek grins.

"Aren't you supposed to be done with your shift too? You told me you had the day off..." Meredith asks, as he smooths a hand down his indigo scrub top.

"I usually stay a little longer than usual these days." Meredith doesn't need to read between the lines to know that it's easier to stay focused on surgery rather than going home to an empty trailer. She knows the feeling. She's glad here in Lampedusa she's often too exhausted to question why her bed is empty. "Do you have shifts, too?" he asks, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

"It's impossible to have shifts, really. You just take breaks when the refugees take breaks. I've worked for 48 hours straight sometimes, then we went a week when we played cards on the exam tables because the sea was horrible."

"I can't really complain about my on-call shift last night now, uh?"

Meredith laughs as Zola slowly falls asleep in her arms. She keeps rocking the baby back and forth, as Derek's grainy smile and slightly metallic voice fill the empty room.

It's well past midnight for her when she ends their Skype session, and they talked medicine a total of ten minutes.

Everything seems so much easier when there's an ocean keeping them apart.

* * *

Late spring makes room quickly to summer, May turning into August in a blink of the eye. There are shipwrecks daily and the only relief from the August heat is the sea. But, the sunnier it gets, the calmer the sea, so more boats try to approach the last bulwark of Italy, and they get swamped with even more immigrants. It has been a long summer, so far.

There's no more room in the shelters of the island, not even in corridors or schools and gyms now empty because of the holidays. Tourists mingle with the immigrants, blending skin colors and traditions, local dialects and foreign languages.

The atmosphere almost makes it worth the temperatures daily over a hundred degrees and the fact that it probably rains only once during the entire month of July and the first two weeks of August. Locals say that it wasn't this hot last year, and that they are happy it's not rainy and cloudy like it had been for the tourists, but they are also aware that people will keep sailing in flocks if the weather remains this nice and the sea so calm.

Doctors and surgeons walk in and out of their makeshift clinic, and she's the only one - together with Giuseppe, the MSF referent for the project - who has been here long enough to understand how things work.

Giuseppe, though the entire island calls him Pino, welcomed her at the airport, and guided her through everything ever since. His family became her Sicilian family, and he was the one who decided to temporarily foster Zola so that she could get out of the shelter and remain within Meredith's reach. Apparently, his four kids weren't enough. Rosanna, the oldest, had decided to go to university in Milan and found a summer job in the city, and Meredith knew Pino was missing her, but since he had invited Meredith to move into her room, she knew for a fact that they loved having people around.

Meredith bunked in with Zola, not minding the wooden crib beside her twin bed, and enjoys the feeling of having a family, of sharing her daily life with someone. She especially delights in the gourmet cuisine Pino's wife Concetta cooks for them every day.

"You ready for the day, _dottoressa_?" Pino greets her at breakfast on August, 14th.

Everything is in full swing to celebrate the religious festivity of the Assumption the day after, cordially called Ferragosto here, and Concetta and her youngest daughter are already busy in the kitchen, their two boys milking in the summer morning to sleep in. The smell coming from the stove is divine.

"Ready as always, Pino," Meredith grins, sitting down to sip her _caffellatte_ and bounce Zola in her lap as she drinks her own bottle of milk.

"We have an American doctor coming in today; he's from Seattle like you are."

"That's funny. I doubt I know him though, it's a big city."

Pino chuckles, deep and loud as his usual, almost as if he has a secret. He says something to his wife using the now familiar timbre of his dialect, though she still can't understand a word.

While she managed to learn some very very basic Italian, she's still challenged when it comes to the local dialect, which sounds like a completely different language altogether to her ears. The only word that she can understand are _cantalupe_ and _ferryboat_. Yes, they do have ferryboats too, and it was surprising that they use the same word for it. She takes it as a sign.

Concetta laughs with Pino, glancing back and forth between her and her husband, and she immediately knows she's the topic of their conversation.

Meredith greets their oldest son when he walks into the kitchen, sleep hanging onto his lithe, teenage frame, looking coherent enough just to find something to eat. He almost reminds her of George in a way, and she feels a pang of longing for her Seattle family.

She'll call them tomorrow.

Pino keeps buzzing with excitement when he gets a call that the doctor has arrived, and Meredith figures he must know this person well, because he's genuinely giddy that he's coming. Maybe he's someone they can trust? She hopes he is, because their radio connected with the Marina Militare boats has already spotted a raft in distress just about to enter Italian waters.

She quickly finishes her breakfast, leaving a frowning Zola in the kitchen with Concetta and her daughter, then follows Pino to the clinic to help the rookie American settle in.

When they open the door of the clinic and she sees the infamous doctor standing there in all his glory, she almost faints.

* * *

"It's so great to meet you," Pino immediately springs to greet the black-haired, blue-eyed man, shaking his hand eagerly, and his smile dazzles her. Meredith remains rooted at the entrance, unable to move.

"Thank you for taking care of Meredith," he replies, shaking his hand back, and the way he says her name brings tears to her eyes.

"Derek," she murmurs, gulping back her emotions to take him in, frozen in her spot in spite of the dry heat.

He looks thinner. His hair is shorter, a little grayer over his motorcycle scar, the bags under his eyes a little more pronounced, but when he turns to her, his smile lights up the room.

"Mere," he whispers back, almost running to gather her in his arms.

She squeezes him as tightly as she can, marveling that he can still smell like Seattle and his woods after an entire day spent traveling in the summer heat. He squeezes her back, burying his nose in her hair, breathing her in.

"What are you doing here?" she mumbles into the material of his thin shirt, closing her eyes, unsure if he's really there or if she's still dreaming.

"I came to help," he grins, pulling away, keeping his hands on her shoulders, staring deep into her eyes. "I saw the wonderful job you were doing and decided to spend my vacation days here, with you."

"But it's not a vacation," she croaks.

"Well, if I'm getting a tan and I can see the sea, it counts as a vacation." His smirk melts her. She sniffles, reaching to touch his face again, still unsure if it's the sun making her see mirages or her tiredness having screwed up her brain. Derek Shepherd can't possibly be standing right here, in front of her, while she's in Lampedusa. "Plus, if I can spend even only one day with you, it was worth the trip."

She bites her lip, not knowing how to reply to him, to this. He had a wife and a ring last time they saw one another, even if he kissed her, but now? Why is he saying these wonderful things now?

Meredith takes his hands in hers, noticing that there's no trace of his wedding band, not even the faint indentation left from eleven years of wear. She circles his ring finger, unable to actually ask him the question in fear that she's still an adulterer if she gives in to all her desires swirling in her head.

"I signed my divorce papers as soon as I got home from prom. I was going to sign away some properties in New York when we met at JFK."

"You kissed me at JFK," she says, still not quite believing it, even if months have passed.

Derek chuckles, his eyes sparkling. "I did."

"What does this mean, Derek? You came here, and you are divorced and…"

"One step at a time," he murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.

She can't help but deepen their kiss, and he smiles into it, as she runs her hand through his hair, still unsure if she's dreaming the whole thing or not. He feels too real to be a figment of her imagination, though.

A familiar piercing cry is what grounds her to reality again. Concetta shows up with a screaming Zola in her arms, an apologetic look on her face, although Meredith doesn't miss the twinkle in her eyes at the sight of Derek.

" _Ecco la mamma,_ " Concetta whispers to Zola, who hiccups loudly, desperately stretching her arms towards Meredith.

"Derek, this is Concetta," Meredith introduces the two as she scoops the little girl in her arms, placing a soft kiss over her temple to soothe her tears.

"My wife," Pino adds, clearly delighted at the sight before him just as much as Concetta seems to look.

Concetta doesn't wait a second before she pulls Derek into her arms and hugs him, kissing both his cheeks with a smack, making him laugh. Meredith watches the scene with amusement as she rocks Zola in her arms, the baby drooling all over her t-shirt. The poor girl has been teething for the past couple of days, she figured this day had to come.

Concetta sends Meredith a genuine, pleased smile after her meeting with Derek, almost as if she gave her approval, and it makes Meredith laugh when she winks.

"My wife didn't think you could be this handsome, Derek," Pino translates the looks, which makes Derek turn a delicious shade of pink.

"Well, your wife is a really beautiful woman too, Pino."

"Too bad she's taken, uh? She cooks divinely too."

Derek laughs at Pino's antics, as if they were old friends. "My mother would be delighted to swap recipes with her."

"I can try to translate some for her, if you want."

"It would mean a lot to me," Derek grins. "I have no idea how to thank you for everything you have done, Pino."

"Nonsense," he grins. "It wasn't hard looking after Meredith."

Meredith's eyes widen, and he sees Derek blush when he turns towards her. Oh, she busted him alright. Derek is the reason Pino took her in?

"Meredith, Pino called me about a consult after Zola's surgery, and then we started talking. He mentioned you and…"

"I promised him I'd look after you, but you were already living with me, don't worry. He had your best interest at heart," Pino confirms his words, though Meredith still feels uneasy about it.

"Why?"

"I couldn't look after you myself," is Derek's simple answer, and it blindsides her.

Zola is now quiet enough that her screams have turned into hiccups and snotty sighs, but Meredith keeps rubbing her back in slow circles, leaving a fleeting kiss over her braided head, taking her time to let Derek's words sink in.

She still remembers the day one of the migrants taught her how to care for Zola's hair, and she decided that braids were a much better way to exercise her surgical dexterity compared to knitting.

"Zola," she whispers close to the little girl's ear, trying to get her full attention. "Do you want to meet my friend Derek? He helped me save your life," she murmurs, and Zola's cheek shifts a little, locking eyes with her.

"Ma," she says, making Meredith's heart squeeze in her chest. "Ma-ma."

"Oh, baby," she hums, her eyes misty, just like Pino's and Concetta's ones. Derek is looking at her as if she were a vision, his eyes wide and glassy, a surprised smile on his lips. "He doesn't bite, he's a nice friend."

Zola buries her cheek deeper into Meredith's t-shirt, whining.

"I'm Derek, nice to meet you," he whispers quietly, moving closer to them, touching the little girl's hand, approaching her with caution. Zola frowns at first, then cracks a smile as he smiles back at her and tickles her belly. In a moment he's enveloping both her and Zola in his arms, and kissing the top of her head gently. "Zola is gorgeous, but you look perfect with her," he murmurs against the crown of her head, and she feels a gazillion emotions course through her veins.

Most of all, she feels like she belongs.

* * *

Their moment is interrupted by the radio and the news of more migrants coming in. Meredith bundles Zola into a baby carrier and keeps her close, knowing that it would be the only way to get everything done for the day. She starts by stocking up the clinic with Derek's help, leaving Pino to go in the field this time.

She shows Derek where everything is, he updates her on her friends and the hospital back in Seattle, and they easily get through the morning as if it were a normal day in the ER at Seattle Grace, not an underfunded clinic in Lampedusa.

The wreck isn't one of the tragic ones, it comes pretty close to their definition of regular day, but she can see how much it affects Derek. They joined Pino at the site in the late morning, during Zola's nap, and Derek was the one to pull a dead child out of his father's arms. One of the smugglers threw her backpack with her doses of insulin into the sea, thus slowly killing her. Another mother told them they threatened to throw her three kids overboard if she dared asking for water for them ever again. Derek was thrown into the deep water on his first day, Meredith understands why he's so distraught.

Meredith herself picks up Zola from Concetta's house before she goes back to the clinic to find Derek, needing to squeeze her favorite little girl close,grounding herself. She can't blame him when she finds him slumped against one of the metal lockers they use to store supplies, his eyes red and puffy, the back of his hand glistening with tears. She feels like doing the same as well, the stares of the ten-year-old girl's sisters and the tears of that mother engraved in her brain forever.

She sits down beside him, tucking a sleepy Zola into her lap, so that the girl curls up against her, then she places her hand on his knee and rubs small circles, similar to the ones she's rubbing over Zola's back.

"Why is this happening? How can you get through every day?" he asks, his voice thick with emotion.

Meredith remains quiet for a moment, letting him cry it out while he squeezes her hand for dear life, then she looks deeply into his eyes and replies. "It's because of Pino and Concetta, their family, Zola and all the other children that I stitch up and treat and warm up after they spent the night in the water. Many people die, but the survivors make it worth it. Their stories of tragedies and horrors and strength made me stronger. You become part of this."

"So you're staying here after your contract expires?"

"I don't know. I think I saw my share of tragedies for a lifetime," she admits honestly. "And I kinda miss Seattle's summer."

Derek smiles, though it barely reaches his eyes. "What is going to happen to Zola?"

"I hope Pino and Concetta can keep taking care of her."

Derek leans over to rub Zola's back. Zola molds under his touch. "Have you ever thought about taking her home with you?"

Meredith shakes her head, knowing that it's close to impossible, no matter how attached she has grown to the little girl. "She deserves a family, not a resident mom living at the hospital. She deserves more."

"You already are her family, Mere," he admits, touching Zola's fist wrapped tightly around her shirt, holding onto her for dear life. "You're the only one she trusts."

"We're working on that," she shrugs with a smile, though she knows he's making a good point.

The colors of the sunset fill the hallway and they sigh in unison, basking in the glimmering orange light.

"Let's give her a family, Mer. We can become her family," he blurts, making her turn sharply towards him.

Her eyes widen. "What?"

"I'll help you. You find a way to take her home, and I promise I'll be there with you for every step and every milestone."

"What? Why?"

"Because you so clearly love her, Meredith. She loves you. And I love you." Her heart skips a beat at his words, but Zola doesn't stir. "I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you...forever. And I know I'm a little late in telling you this, but I'm in love with you. And I'm falling in love with Zola too."

"Derek," she begins, but words fail her. He's looking at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he ever saw in his life, and she's glad she's already sitting down on the floor. He has returned in her life less than twenty-four hours ago, and he has already flipped it upside down.

"Let's become a family, Meredith."

* * *

They remain in Lampedusa long after their contracts have expired. Richard granted them more leave, and by the first week of December they are still there.

The sea is stormier, the skies gray, but the island is still breathtaking, and the migrants keep coming in waves, whenever it stops raining for more than a day, which is not often. Still, winter on the island is something to cherish and enjoy.

Everybody knows them by now and they all greet them whenever they take a stroll down the narrow roads of the island, hand in hand, holding Zola into her carrier. They blended into a family in between all the craziness, even if they aren't officially one yet. They don't know themselves what they are, after all. Meredith only knows that Derek has been her partner through this experience.

They had to jump through a million legal hoops before they could even find a way to adopt Zola, and they had to do everything from overseas. Cristina helped while one of Derek's brothers-in-law counseled through the adoption process, and they were lucky they managed to tie up all the loose ends in only four months. Even though the final approval for the adoption is still pending - they need proof of their union to adopt her together -, at least they can keep fostering her.

It feels bittersweet to know that they won't be spending Christmas with Pino and Concetta, though. It still has to sink in that they're preparing their bags and going back to Seattle after so many months.

"We're going home," Derek grins, tickling Zola as he zips his own suitcase close, Zola rolling over the big bed.

"Da!" she squeals, making Meredith smile as she watches the two of them. It feels surreal for her to leave, but she wouldn't change a single thing.

"Are you all set?" Pino asks, after knocking on the frame of what loosely became their bedroom over time. His eyes are glassy, but his smile is bright.

"I'm going to miss you, Pino," Meredith murmurs, pulling the man that became almost her father into a strong but gentle hug.

"You, too, _dottoressa_. Don't forget about this family when you go back and settle with your new one, okay? I want to see you in a wedding dress, Meredith." He jokes, but she can see the seriousness of the statement behind his eyes.

"I won't forget. You all have to come visiting, though. Derek and I can pay. He's a hotshot neurosurgeon, he makes millions, he can spare some money for your plane tickets."

Pino laughs at her humor, hugging her again, kissing her cheek, almost as if he's engraving her features in his memories. She's most likely doing the same.

He says goodbye to Derek much in the same way, though the two men whisper something into each other's ears. She lets them be, knowing it's about her, not minding it much after months of their secret, whispered conversations.

He reserves a simple "Nonno Pino loves you," for Zola, who giggles in delight and slobbers all over his cheek when she tries to kiss him. Meredith's heart swells at the knowledge that Zola will have a Nonno forever.

"Concetta made you some goodies you can smuggle into the US and a recipe book. Let us know if Mere burns down the kitchen trying to make one of her dishes, okay?" Pino says to Derek, who bursts into heartfelt laughter. She blushes, but she's definitely going to miss Pino's teasing and Concetta's cooking.

Before she climbs into the car to get to the airport, she stops for a second to stare at the stormy sea, closing her eyes much like she did when she first came, knowing that she's leaving as a different person. And not just because there's a baby strapped around her torso and Derek has his hand on her lower back.

The smell of the sea is still the same though, and she's going to miss it dearly.

* * *

They have a welcome home committee when they arrive to SeaTac, dead tired and with a fussy baby in tow, and yet, her heart is filled with warmth, in spite of the chilly day outside.

It's raining, and the smell of damp, soggy earth fills her nostrils in place of the pungent, characteristic smell of sea salt that has resided there for the past six months.

Derek kisses her temple, and prompts her to move towards her friends when he spots them coming through the lobby. His smile is tired, but beautifully perfect nonetheless.

"Oh my goodness, she's precious!" Izzie squeals, literally running towards them as she spots the trio, doting over Zola right away, ignoring the little girl's grumpiness and shy behavior.

Cristina barely looks at the baby, though she greets both her and Derek with one of her snarky remarks. Alex and George are more neutral, though they are both taken by the baby and they seem genuinely happy to see them.

They catch up and talk until pagers starts beeping and they remain alone in the lobby, the keys of her Jeep Alex brough here for them in Derek's hands, the knowledge that their friends bought a car seat for Zola warming their hearts.

"I'm so tired I'm not sure it's the safest options if I drive," Derek admits, though Meredith can see the determination in his eyes. "Thank god for the ferry ride."

"Ferry?" she asks, puzzled, but he only grins. "Are you missing the ferryboats of Sicilia?" she giggles, teasing him.

He simply keeps smiling until they indeed end up on the ferry going to Bainbridge. They sleep all the way through the trip, all three of them. Meredith is asking herself for a moment - in the haze of her sleepy brain - how can they fit in the trailer now that they are three people, but her answer is quick to arrive as soon as they round the bend of Derek's driveway, and a beautiful house comes into view.

"Derek," she gulps, her eyes widening.

"I told you I was taking you home," he grins, stopping the car and leaning over to kiss her lips. "If something is not right just take it up with Alex, he was the one supervising the construction crew after I left."

Meredith laughs, though her heart feels like it's beating out of her chest. "That's why you kept asking me about houses and couches and all that decor crap!"

"Busted," he grins, slipping out of the car to open her door. First he takes Zola's car seat inside, leaving it barely inside the threshold, then he walks back outside.

She feels the air being knocked off her lungs as soon as he moves closer to her and picks her up in his arms.

"I need to keep old traditions alive," he says against her lips, before he carries her inside.

"I'm not your wife," she frowns, though she feels giddy at the mere idea that he wants to maintain traditions with her. With _her_.

"Not yet," he murmurs, and suddenly, she realizes just how quiet his land is. She can only hear her pounding heart and Zola's soft snoring as he stops right before her.

Derek Shepherd is smiling brightly in the hallway of the house he built for them, Zola sleeping beside him in her car seat, and she feels lightheaded.

"I'm not going to ask you, Meredith, I'm telling you," he murmurs, emotions rising in her throat, and his too. "I want you to be my wife. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, in this house, with Zola and all the other babies we'll make. I want to grow old with you, and die at 110 in your arms."

She's shaking as he takes her hands in his, but then she finally finds her voice to reply. "And I want to spend the rest of my life with you too, in this house, with Zola, and die at 110 in your arms."

Derek laughs, kissing her with everything he has, and she feels a cool metal band being slipped onto her finger. He gives her a second to admire the simple diamond and the old-fashioned setting, before he's kissing her again.

When he pulls away, he has a mischievous look on his face. "What about more babies?"

"Now you're pushing it," she laughs, though she's getting used to the baby thing and doing it again from the start with Derek beside her? Not all that crazy. She loses herself in his kiss all over again, just for good measure.

"What about practicing first?" he murmurs against her lips, his eyes sparkling.

"I love practicing."

* * *

It's the middle of their first night in the house, and of course Zola starts screaming at the top of her lungs. She can't blame her, really, it took her a moment to make peace with her surroundings too.

Meredith and Derek untangle their naked embrace and redress, moving towards the perfectly furnished room of their little girl. Derek picks her up and goes to stand in front of the wide window near the fireplace in their living room then, the lights of the city twinkling in the darkness as he rocks Zola back and forth, their faces illuminated only by the glimmering lights of their Christmas tree.

"You're safe Zozo, we're right here," he murmurs, and Zola slowly relaxes against him.

"Dada," she smacks her lips, yawning. "Mama."

"We're not going anywhere," Meredith says quietly, moving in her line of vision. "Welcome to Seattle, Zola," she murmurs quietly to the girl in Derek's arms, locking her eyes with Derek before she adds: "Welcome home."

Her ring sparkles just as bright as the Christmas tree itself.

* * *

It snows the weekend before Christmas, and they both watch delighted as Zola moves her first, tentative steps into the snow, falling and ending up face first in the white blanket of the foreign substance in front of her.

Snow becomes the very first one of Zola's eager explorations around the house and the land, changing in tune with the seasons. She explores her birthday cake in January, the porch and the immediate grass under it in February, and then farther and farther as she grows, and the weather gets sunnier.

By the time summer rolls around again, she's a pro walker, and a pro when it comes to picking up whatever plant grows in their backyard and coming back inside the house with more dirt on her body than they have on the ground.

There's not a speck of dirt on the dress she's wearing at the moment, though. Zola keeps fiddling with the purple bow around her waist, smoothing her little hands over the silky lilac fabric of her gown, looking up and around in fascination from time to time.

Meredith smiles at her, fidgeting with the lavender sash around her waist as Izzie pins her hair frantically, hopping around her to check on the last details of her gown as well.

"Mama, pitty!" Zola exclaims, grinning so wide she's showing her teeth while she points at her dress.

"You look pretty too, Zozo."

"I have to say, I'm almost jealous," Cristina snickers. "Are you sure they didn't tailor this on you?"

"They barely fit it for me. You were at the bridal shop when I bought it," Meredith rolls her eyes. She swears she can hear an 'unfortunately' coming out of Cristina's lips, but Izzie is too busy to actually hear her and retort.

"Do you need me to check if everything is okay out there?" Cristina asks, slipping fully into her maid of honor mode, almost as if she wants to redeem herself.

"I'm sure Derek's mom is already ordering people around with the rest of the sisters, and Concetta is helping her," Meredith grins, easily picturing the two women together.

"Do you need me to check on Derek? See if he's still out there and not in a getaway car?"

Meredith giggles. "I know he's still there," she says, smiling softly. She feels the excitement of seeing him bubble in her veins, imagining him at the makeshift altar they built at the clearing near their river in his crisp suit and the tie that matches her sash and Zola's dress. She can't wait to get out there and stand next to him. Marry _him_.

She's a bride. The thought is foreign, and yet so perfect. Derek showing up in her life again made it perfect.

"Meredith," she hears, before there's a knock on the frame of her door and Concetta and Pino enter her bedroom, dressed impeccably, their smiles wide.

"You look amazing, _dottoressa_ ," Pino says, tears in his eyes. Concetta simply hugs her, studying her features for a long moment, tracing the shape of her face with her fingers, her smile widening after she gives Meredith a once over.

"Do you like my dress?" she smiles to her almost mother, grinning when she sees Carolyn Shepherd joining the party, Pino exiting the scene to make room for the women.

"You look absolutely lovely, dear," Carolyn intrudes, her turn to shower her with compliments.

Zola toddles over her grandmothers - official or not - and hugs both of them, only to make them erupt in laughter too.

"Beautiful girls," Concetta says, kissing Zola's forehead, then smiling at Meredith. "One more?" she asks in her barely there English, tapping the top of Zola's head, then eying Meredith and gesturing towards her with her pointy finger.

Meredith blinks, her cheeks flushing as she bites her lip, giving Concetta a look. Her Sicilian mom gets her right away.

Carolyn doesn't miss the exchange, her own eyes misting over in understanding. "Really?"

Meredith motions to Carolyn to keep it to herself, and she's glad her friends are too busy squabbling in a corner to hear them and she's able to hold in the happy tears that blur her vision. She's also glad when Carolyn completely changes the subject.

"I loved your arancini recipe, Concetta. Loved it!" she gushes, and then the two older women lose themselves in a world of food as Meredith reaches for a paper in her hands.

She picks up Zola, holstering her against her midsection, her little legs wrapping around her like a second lavender sash. "Do you want to go check on Daddy? I have something you should give him," she asks Zola, who nods eagerly.

Zola crumples up the paper Meredith gives her in her pygmy hands, confidently walking out of the bedroom to reach their guest room. Meredith watches her disappear, closing her eyes as she sighs, letting the quiet conversation about some kind of pasta sauce between Izzie and Concetta fill her humming brain.

"Meredith," she hears after a few minutes, Derek's voice loud and clear from the other side of the door. All conversations seem to die down.

"Hi," she grins, talking back.

"Is it true?" he says, and she can hear the smile on his lips. "Zola is really ours after today?"

Meredith giggles. "Just one more signature, Derek."

"Oh my God!" he practically squeals, laughing madly from the other side of the door. "I wish I could see you right now. Kiss you. Hold you. "

"Later," she says, happy tears streaming down her cheeks now, unrestrained. "We have all the time in the world."

"That we do," he hums. "I can't believe she's ours, exactly one year after you met her."

"I can't believe it either," she says, "I can't believe any of this," she lowers her voice, blushing when she notices that the whole room is looking at her. She looks down to the floor, folding her hands over her sash, trying to avoid their gazes.

"Believe it. It's real." Derek's voice is full of confidence, strong, even if it comes from behind a door. "I'll see you later, Mere."

"I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too," he replies, and she can almost see his smile from behind the wood. "I'm keeping Zola with me since I can't have you, okay?"

Meredith and the rest of the women in the room laugh heartedly, and Meredith is sure she can hear Zola's giggle coming from the other side of the door as well.

* * *

Meredith is already his wife of three hours and her whole being still mesmerizes him. Her dress fits her like a glove, her eyes are sparkling, and she never looked more beautiful, ethereal, perfect. Derek holds her close as they enjoy a slow, swaying dance, her cheek resting on his shoulder, her eyes closed in bliss.

"I think I'm falling in love with you over and over again tonight," he says, grinning as he giggle fills the air, her eyes looking up at the indigo sky as she throws her head back, her cheeks rosy.

He captures her lips with his, unable to resist her, and her body moves even closer to his. They can't be closer, unless they take off all their clothing, and he plans on doing that soon. He's already one step ahead, since his tie is now draped against the back of his chair.

The reception is in full swing, Sicilian-style, and they still have three or four courses before they get to cut the wedding cake, but he's loving every second of this. Of having Meredith close. His wife is within hands' reach.

"Dans!" Zola squeals, tugging at his pants, as the slow song fades away and the guests start clapping. "Dans, Dada!" Zola intimates again, forcing him to step away from Meredith's embrace.

"Father-daughter dance," his mother explains, and his eyes mist over.

Meredith slowly steps aside, her eyes sparkling as she stands on the sidelines of the makeshift dancefloor, her hands folded in front of her, watching them. For a moment his heart aches for her, because there's no father dancing with her like he's dancing with Zola, but then it fills with joy when he sees Pino stepping in her line of vision, bowing and kissing her hand.

His wife laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound in the world. They start swaying on the grass like they're flying, her gown twirling and making her glow under the last rays of sunlight.

Zola claims his attention with another tug at his pants, and he picks her up effortlessly. Her legs wrap around his torso as she curls up into him. Her gown falls around his arms, and he picks up one of her hands to mimic a tango. Zola giggles the entire time they indulge into the quick beat of the tune, picked straight from a Roaring Twenties selection, making him laugh as well.

When the tune slows down, he sees Meredith and Pino laughing together, catching their breaths, and his eyes lock with Meredith's.

The rest of the people on the dancefloor disappear, only her radiant smile remains. She keeps smiling even when he moves closer to her, Zola still giggling in his arms, clearly focused solely on him.

It brings back memories of the last time they were wearing fancy dresses and dancing on a dancefloor, though it was the hospital hall back then, not their backyard. It feels like years have passed between the two moments.

"This brings back prom," she says, kissing the top of Zola's head first, before she kisses quickly his lips.

"Much better than prom," he sighs wistfully, gathering her in his arms as much as he can with the free hand that is not holding Zola.

Meredith sighs in his hold, both of his girls relaxing against him, yawning almost in the same blink of the eye.

"Are you tired?"

"Not too tired," Meredith grins, her eyes sparkling with promises. "It's been a long, amazing day."

He hums, cherishing every second as well.

"I can't believe she's ours now. Nobody can take her away," Meredith says, looking at Zola with adoration.

"She's always been yours, Meredith. From the very first moment you two met," he grins. "I'm glad she found you as her mother."

Meredith sighs, her eyes glassy with happy tears. "We can be good parents for her, right?"

"We'll try our best. We'll screw up sometimes, but she'll understand."

Meredith nods. "We need to love her the same, even when we have our own babies, we need to love her just as much as we love them," she intimates, her voice gaining an urgency that almost blindsides Derek.

"When?" Derek gulps. They never discussed adding more, settling with Zola and their jobs and the wedding were enough preoccupations. Clearly, Meredith has thought about it, though. He feels dizzy. A good dizzy.

"When. Soon," she confirms, biting her lip, her eyes sparkling with something he has never seen. There have been plenty of looks he couldn't understand from her today, but this one tops them all.

Before he can ask more, an explanation, a timeline, she offers it to him by simply moving their joined hands low on the front of her dress, over her belly button, then she grins widely at him.

His jaw probably hits the freshly cut grass, and he's glad Zola is sandwiched between them and holding herself up like a koala, or he's sure he would have dropped her.

"Concetta gave me a once over and figured it out," Meredith says, giggling with full happiness and rosy cheeks, and he sees it, too. He sees it in all her glory.

His wife, his Meredith, is having his baby.

"R...Really?" he murmurs, blinking back happy tears.

"I just found out this morning. I've been dying to tell you," she giggles.

And then he giggles with her, pulling her into his arms, squeezing her tightly, feeling a surge of emotions swell in his chest. "We're having another baby."

Meredith giggles right into his ear, breathlessly echoing "We're having another baby."

All the heartache and the obstacles they had to go through melt away in this embrace, their daughter snuggled between them, their baby nestled within Meredith, their rings on their fingers as he finally feels like he belongs.

He has felt at home from the moment he stepped foot in Lampedusa as a single man with a very taken heart, and Meredith welcomed him in his arms. Yet, years, after meeting her, she still manages to have him redefine what home means.

Derek knows though that home is only where Meredith and their children are; the rest, he can take as it comes.

* * *

 **A/N: The Lampedusa/Mediterranean emergency is real, very real, just like the three cases I mentioned, the one with Francesca Marina (who truly inspired this story at first), the one about the diabetic girl whose insulin was thrown off a boat and died, and also the one about the mother requesting water for her children. It makes me shiver every time I hear or read about news like these.**

 **Unfortunately, there are shipwrecks almost daily during these summer days. I felt like I should raise awareness about this, even just for the sake of all these people who died, without any reason other than trying to find a better future for themselves and their families. Francesca Marina was the perfect case for me to bring this to you without making it awful as it probably is in real life. Each one of these people has their own terrible story to tell, after all.  
**

 _ **Mare Nostrum**_ **is the name of one of the operation the Italian government, together with Libya, the EU and other Mediterranean states have developed together to stop this from happening, and we all hope it is going to work sooner than later.**

 **After this small marathon of a one-shot and this long final AN, I truly hope you enjoyed this short story, sadness or not, happiness or not, and that you especially enjoyed yet another AU version of our beloved MerDer. Thank you for reading!**


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